


It Can Be Hard To Let People In

by Not_You



Series: She Who Must Be Obeyed (And Other Stuff) [6]
Category: Punisher (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fisting, Crying During Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Femdom, Gentle Sex, Light Bondage, Men Crying, Size Difference, frank castle just has way too many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8621098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: Joan has said she wants to fist him, and Frank wonders how far they'll get.  Her hands are as tiny as the rest of her, but the whole thing is still pretty big for Frank to contemplate.  He is under strict orders to tolerate no pain, to let her know the second the stretch gets to be too much.  It's not too much, and Frank moans as she adds more lube and pushes her fourth finger in, the furthest they've gone so far.





	

Frank tugs at his bonds, panting. Some part of him will probably always feel weird about letting Joan penetrate him, but he barely has room even for that small and mostly quelled embarrassment, because Joan is pushing slick little fingers into him and it feels so fucking good. He spreads his legs even wider for her, digging his heels into the mattress. She goes from two fingers to three, and Frank tips his head back, doing his best to just melt around them. 

Joan has said she wants to fist him, and Frank wonders how far they'll get. Her hands are as tiny as the rest of her, but the whole thing is still pretty big for Frank to contemplate. He is under strict orders to tolerate no pain, to let her know the second the stretch gets to be too much. It's not too much, and Frank moans as she adds more lube and pushes her fourth finger in, the furthest they've gone so far.

"Give me a color, sweet boy," Joan murmurs, and Frank groans, rolling his head from side to side on the pillow.

"Green, miss, please, please more!" 

His body clenches on her hand as he speaks, and relaxes again, letting her grind the smooth ridges of her knuckles against him, the tip of her thumb sliding in beside the rest of her fingers. Frank pants harshly, feeling wild and helpless, like he would fly apart without his bindings and without Joan's hands in him and on him, holding him where he is. Joan lets him know when she has to lift the soothing hand on his belly to get more lube, and Frank whines at the desertion and at the cold, slippery feeling. Joan kisses the inside of his knee, her other hand back in its place, rubbing soothing circles as she pushes deeper, the widest point of her hand pressing against the resistance of his body, constant and gentle, massaging its way into him. 

Frank starts to cry out over and over, a high, lost sound that would humiliate him if he were thinking straight, but he isn't. He's not thinking at all, he's just offering himself up to Joan and letting her open and open and open him. And then her whole hand is slipping inside him like it's meant to go there. Frank sobs, trembling all over as his eyes fill with tears because Joan _has_ him, holding his heartbeat in her hand. Nothing hurts, and as Joan balls her hand into a fist, Frank groans and grabs onto his bindings, wailing when Joan slowly, carefully, just barely starts to move.

"All right, boy?" she asks him, and Frank struggles to find some words.

"Yes!" he sobs at last, "oh please please please, miss, please fuck me!" 

Tears are rolling down from the corners of his eyes now, and he grinds down on Joan's fist, moaning as she pushes deeper. She goes as far as he can take her, which turns out to be halfway up her forearm as they work slowly and apply more lube. Frank just keeps whimpering and letting out little sobs, his half-hard cock drooling onto his belly. Once Joan finds his depth, she draws back just a bit, and then pushes as deep as she can again. She fucks him slow and hard, each tiny thrust feeling like it moves the world. His cock jumps a little with each one, still only about two-thirds of the way hard.

"Good, sweetheart?" Joan coos, making her strokes longer and faster, but still not too much. Still not hurting him at all, just warm and full and so good. He feels stuffed and loved and utterly safe and the tears won't stop, just rolling along his skin like rain on a windshield, like they're being forced out of him on Joan's fist like the precome all over his belly.

"Yes," Frank pants, "yes, miss, oh..." he writhes in his bonds a little, almost afraid. "Fuck, fuck, I didn't think it'd be so _good_..." 

Joan smiles up at him, and the steadying hand on his belly slips down to cup and roll his balls as he moans, feeling so good that he's not sure how he'll even notice it if Joan makes him come like this. Joan is the only person besides Maria to ever understand just how gently Frank needs to be handled there. Of course everyone realizes that a guy's balls are sensitive, but Frank is some kind of delicate flower and he needs them touched like Joan is doing now, like she's trying not to bruise a peach, or to touch a white dandelion head without dislodging a single seed. It's so light it almost tickles, and Frank clenches hard on Joan's forearm, groaning deep in his chest.

"Come on, boy," Joan coaxes, licking Frank's cock. To his dim dismay, he's only gone softer, but it sure feels like he could come at any second. "Come on, honey, I know you can do it. Give it up, give it up for me, that's such a good boy..." She trails off because Frank is sobbing and pulling at his bonds again as he comes all over himself in slow, hard pulses that pull him so tight around Joan's hand and he can't bear it and he can't stop and he's making noises he's never heard from himself before, ragged, phonated almost-screams, a broken, stripped sound that makes Joan tremble. 

Joan sees it when everything suddenly changes on him, too, when all he needs now is to get her out as fast as possible, aching and exhausted. It's actually pretty easy, Joan's hand just pushes right out. He can feel that he's gaping a little, but that presumably comes with the territory. Joan kisses him and praises him, pulling wet wipes from the box to clean both of them. Frank feels a dim need to do something for her, but she had told him beforehand that she wanted to spoil him and let him rest if they did this, that he can take care of her later. So for now Frank sighs, trying to kiss Joan's hands as she wipes the tears from his face. She smiles, and leans in to cover him with kisses, running her dainty little fingers through his hair. Frank sighs, just basking for now, helpless to do anything else with his hands still bound. Joan climbs on top of him, stretching out comfortably and sighing with contentment.

"Are your wrists still comfortable, angel?"

"Yes, miss," Frank says, and the two of them rest together for a while.


End file.
